


Ficlet Advent Calendar 2019

by polikszena



Category: Indiana Jones Series, Kingsman (Movies), Mamma Mia! (Movies), Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas, F/M, Gen, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 13,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21635068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polikszena/pseuds/polikszena
Summary: This will be a collection of - mostly holiday-themed - ficlets created between the 1 and 24 December. Expect fluff, a bit of angst, snow, mistletoes, and ugly christmas sweaters.
Relationships: Abraham Woodhull/Mary Woodhull, Anna Strong/Abraham Woodhull, Caleb Brewster & Benjamin Tallmadge, Edmund Hewlett/Anna Strong, Ensign Baker/Mary Woodhull, Harry Hart | Galahad & Merlin & Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, John André/Peggy Shippen, Roxy Morton | Lancelot & Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20





	1. December 1 - Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I haven't tried before: doing an advent calendar challenge. Well, one has to start somewhere. Apologies in advance for the occasional cheesiness.

Abraham Woodhull let out a sigh as he saw it was snowing again. Even though they were on their way home from the regular Sunday night dinners in Whitehall, his discomfort was still lingering in his chest. It was a mixture of denial, anger, guilt, and self-pity that hit him every time he had to spend more than two minutes in his father’s house.  
He shouldn’t be here; this shouldn’t be his life. Thomas should have been sitting next to his father and Mary every Sunday night and not him. But Thomas was dead, and it was all Abe’s fault. No-one knew about it, but he felt the weight of it every time he set foot in Whitehall. The desire to be somewhere else, to be with someone else was the strongest on these Sunday nights. And the falling snow did not help with that – it made him more annoyed and miserable than he already was.

Some people – including his wife – thought that when it snowed, everything became magical. Not for Abe, though. For him snow was something cold and wet that always brought back bad memories of his childhood. The magic of snow was gone for years now, no matter how beautiful Setauket looked, covered in white.

Suddenly he heard a cackle that snapped him out of his thoughts. Looking to his right he noticed his son, Thomas watching the falling snowflakes in awe, with eyes wide with curiosity, and a small grin on his lips. He laughed at the snow again, making his father’s heart melt. No, he didn’t begin to like snow, but he was glad to witness his son’s first meeting with it. He couldn’t help smiling at him.

“You like snow, eh, Sprout?” he asked, gently stroking Thomas’ head. “Do you like it?”

And the boy laughed, still not taking his eyes off the falling snowflakes.

As they rode back to their farm, Abe hoped that his son would find the long-lost magic in snow.


	2. December 2 - Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abraham Woodhull may not like snow, but not all the boys from Setauket feel the same way.  
> Valley Forge, 1777.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of this came out of the blue when I was on my way to work in the morning. Inspired by yesterday's snowy weather.

The sight of the snow-covered camp drew a smile on Caleb Brewster’s face as he stepped out of his tent on that chilly December morning. He was a big, hairy man, lethal with an axe and a pistol, but he turned into a child as snowflakes started landing in his beard. Unable to wipe the grin off his face he dashed through the camp, where the rest of the Continental Army was still rubbing the sleep from their eyes. He usually wasn’t an early riser himself, but this was not an ordinary day.

“Rise and shine, Benny boy!” he chirped as he stepped into his friend’s tent. Without knocking, of course. This was Ben Tallmadge; he wasn’t expecting any surprises inside. A sleepy groan came as an answer and the young major rolled onto his other side. He wasn’t asleep anymore, but nor was he fully awake; drifting somewhere in between.  
“It’s first snow day!” Caleb went on, stepping closer to him, prepared to be cruel and pull the covers off him, but his words seemed to be enough.

At the mention of the first snow, Major Benjamin Tallmadge, head of the Continental Army’s intelligence, jumped out of bed and ducked his head outside his tent to see it with his own eyes. A chuckle escaped his mouth as he saw that the Valley Forge camp had turned white overnight. “Let me get dressed and we can go,” he said, pulling his head back in.

They didn’t care who could have seen them, they didn’t notice other officers rolling their eyes and furrowing their brows at them. For a few hours they weren’t soldiers, just two boys from Setauket, playing in the first snow of the year.

“I hope it’s going to look better than one from last year,” Ben mused as they placed the smaller snowball on top of the big one.

“You didn’t even see it last year,” Caleb reminded him, “as you were still unconscious when the first proper snow fell. I had to build it on my own.”

“Well, then it’s definitely going to look better this year,” Ben teased him. Then he tried to dodge the snowball Caleb threw at him. He didn’t succeed.

The didn’t notice that someone was watching them from afar. With a smile forming in the corner of his lips, he slowly headed towards the two young men. Ben was the first one to see him; he dropped the snowball in his hand and straightened his back. Caleb wasn’t this lucky – his snowball was already on its way when he noticed their guest.

George Washington looked at his boots where the snowball hit him and then at the two young men with their cheeks red due to the cold and perhaps shame. He could still see the sparkle in their eyes they had since they left their tents earlier this morning.

“Sorry, Sir,” Caleb apologized.

“We were just… building a snowman, Sir,” Ben explained. “We do this every year when the first snow falls.”

“It’s our tradition,” Caleb added. “Not in Setauket, but amongst us. A private tradition.”

At that point, at least half of the camp was watching them, wondering what Washington would do. To their surprise, the general’s smile grew wider and he took a step closer to his soldiers. “That’s alright, Lieutenant,” he said. “I have just thought this might be a good addition to your snowman,” he added, handing a worn, dark grey sash to Ben – one from his own wardrobe. 

And this is how General Snow was born.


	3. December 3 - Simple, but Significant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Hart dressed up Eggsy Unwin once. Now it's his turn to return the favor.

“What do yout think of this one?” Eggsy asked.

“Isn’t this too much?” Roxy wondered, still a little bit shocked by the sight of the fluffy sweater that looked like a fully decorated, but completely tasteless Christmas tree.

“There’s no such thing as too much in the land of Christmas sweaters,” he said with a grin. He genuinely found Roxy’s astonishment amusing as they enetered Christmas Corner of the shopping mall. For her holiday outfits usually meant elegant dresses and wool cardigans – the fake reindeer antlers and the knitted sweaters with dancing penguins were a whole new world to her.

“I can’t really imagine Harry wearing this,” she admitted.

Eggsy furrowed his brows, holding the sewater away from himself, then he shook his head. “No, it doesn’t suit him at all,” he stated, putting the sweater back to the pile.

“Why are you doing this?” Roxy asked, looking across a few piles of Christmas socks and party glasses.

“He dressed me up once,” he replied, “now it’s my turn.”

“Eliza Doolittle strikes back?” She picked up a sweater with two snowmen on it. “How about this?” They were surrounded by birds and a misletoe was hanging above them. No, this was not like Harry either, Eggsy stated in mind.

“These are horrendous,” Roxy said which was a usual reaction for someone surrounded by Christmas clothing for the first time.

“That’s the point of it.”  
Eggsy looked around those mostly red, knitted sweaters, trying to imagine his mentor in all of them, but none seemed suitable. Roxy was right; they were all too much, at least for Harry Hart. He needed something else. “Something simple, but siginificant,” Eggsy mumbled, thinking out loud.

He and Roxy found it at the same time: a knitted sweater with a reindeer on it whose nose was a LED light. The two young agents smiled at each other.

“Simple,” said Roxy.  
“But significant,” Eggsy added, turning on the light of the sweater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was the first Kingsman installment of the challenge. To be honest, I wasn't sure what Roxy's previous social circle would think of Christmas sweaters, but I couldn't imagine them wearing such thing. Also, this sets in an AU where Roxy is still alive, since when she and Eggsy became full agents, Harry was known to be dead.


	4. December 4 - Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a truth universally acknowledged that an accomplished officer is skilled with a musket and a sword, can ride a horse, but he can also hold a decent conversation, entertains ladies, and is able to conquer the dance floor. From that point of view, Major Edmund Hewlett was not an accomplished officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is not that much related to Christmas, and my first thought of today's installment was quite far from the final version. It all happened because I wanted something with Hewlett and Anna.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that an accomplished officer is skilled with a musket and a sword, can ride a horse, but he can also hold a decent conversation, entertains ladies, and is able to conquer the dance floor. From that point of view, Major Edmund Hewlett was not an accomplished officer. He could work well with weapons, rode horses, talked about many different topics, but when it came to dancing, he turned into a red-coated scarecrow. He did not really mind that, to be honest, and as a good piano player he always had an excuse to miss the opportunity to dance. However, recently he had started to be more concerned about it, now that there was someone he wanted to dance with.

Surprising, isn’t it? he asked himself every morning when he stopped to take deep breath before leaving his room to be prepared if he ran into her on the staircase. Or when he glanced at his reflection in the mirror to see if his wig was on its place. Or when she crossed his mind out of the blue, drawing a small smile on the his face. He wasn’t expecting this to happen. In fact, he thought he would be the last person on Earth to develop such feelings for anyone.But where there was darkness, now there was Anna Strong. And Edmund Hewlett wanted to impress her.

He wasn’t planning to do something bold or outrageous, rather something small but remarkable. This is why hed decided to improve his dancing skills. He began to pactice everywhere he could: in his room, in front of the house, in the church when no-one could see him. On a Thursday afternoon, he was passing through the hall, dancing to a Minuet, even humming the melody to himself, when Anna Strong walked down the stairs. 

The sight of Major Hewlett dancing in the hall astonished her so much that she stood there for a while, silently watching him. He was so different from that cold, reserved British officer she had known before. He was more ordinary, more human this way, and surprisingly, she began to like it. Not to mention, that besides Abe and Cicero, he had been the only friendly face since she climbed out of Selah’s boat.

“Good afternoon, Major,” she greeted him with a small, polite smile as she came down to the hall. Hewlett jumped a little when he noticed her and felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

“Apologies, Mrs. Strong, I have not seen you,” he said, bowing his head. Did his voice always sound so feeble? – he wondered.

“Are you excited for the Christmas ball, Major?” Anna asked.

_So she have seen me_ , Hewlett stated in mind, fighting the urge to avoid her gaze. He didn’t want her to notice how startled he was by her unexpected appearance. 

“I am, indeed,” he replied. “Music and good company, what else could one ask for?” he added with a small chuckle, although he knew he did not sound very convincing. Seeing her raising a brow, he also knew that she saw right through him. “Apparently, lots of other things,” he admitted, answering his own question. “I prefer smaller companies.”

“Me, too,” Anna agreed.

“Will you come to the ball?” he asked.

“I don’t think I will have another choice,” Anna said. As a resident of Whitehall, she would probably be invited, even if Judge Woodhull and his daughter-in-law would rather see her somewhere else. And to be honest, she preferred to stay in Whitehall during the ball instead of having to look after the Queen’s drunken Rangers.

“In that case, may I have the pleasure to dance the first dance with you, Mrs. Strong?” Hewlett asked.

That was unexpected. Anna guessed that she would probably have to dance with Hewlett on the ball, but she did not think he would ask her days before the ball itself. She found his enthusiasm quite strange, yet it was oddly heartwarming. She even felt her cheeks turning red.

“Of course, Major,” she said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Strong,” he nodded, then he straightened himself, said goodbye, and headed towards the front door, as if nothing had happened. Now he was the good old Major Hewlett again, except for the smile he could not wipe off his face for the rest of the day.


	5. December 5 - Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TURN modern AU: Some members of the Culper Ring meet again on a special occasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As in my country Santa Claus is not coming on Christmas Eve, but on the 5th December, I wanted to write something related to that, so here it is:

According to Abraham Woodhull, there was one thing more awkward than an encounter in the men’s toilet at school: an encounter with with a man dressed as Santa Claus in the men’s toilet at school. As the man dressed in red stood next to him, Abe noticed in relief that this year they had not asked Robert Rogers to play Santa. He did not plan to say a word or even look at the poor fellow who landed in the role, but then he recognized him.

For Caleb Brewster, there was one thing more awkward than an encounter in the men’s toilet at school: an encounter with a childhood friend in the men’s toilet at school wearing a Santa costume. Not that he wasn’t happy to see Abe, but he would have preferred it in different circumstances.

“Caleb? Caleb Brewster?” the other man burst out in disbelief. He was also happy too see his old friend, but was not expecting to meet him like this.

“Keep it down, Woody, or you’re only getting coal this Christmas!” Caleb sushed him. “No, seriously, I don’t want the kids know that it’s me.”

“No worries, man, no-one uses this toilet,” Abe reassured him.

At that moment the door opened and Selah Strong walked in, then froze for a moment when he saw the two other men.

“Caleb?”

“Brilliant,” Caleb sighed. “Hello, Selah.”

“How come you’re Santa this year?” he asked.

“Well they couldn’t ask Robert Rogers for obvious reasons, and also, I’m a man who cannot say no to a bottle of fine whiskey.”

Stepping out of the toilet a few minutes later the three men almost bumped into the head teacher of the Strong kids, Anne Lewis, who got to organize this year’s Christmas celebration. Seeing Caleb in his Santa Claus outfit, a wide grin appeared on her face.

“How do I look?” he asked, and Abe could not notice that he was trying to stand more straight.

The woman checked him out from his head to toe and nodded her head. “You nailed it,” she said, then she stepped closer to him. “Just make sure Rudolph doesn’t come out,” she added.

“What?” Caleb asked, a little bit confused.

“Your fly is down,” Anne told him, almost as low as a whisper, but loud enough for Abe and Selah to hear it; then she walked away, leaving Caleb with a flushing red face.

“Are you sure it was the whiskey and not Miss Lewis’ keen eyes?” Abe wondered.

“Maybe both,” Selah mused, and both men started laughing.

“Oh, fuck off!” Caleb hissed, making the others laugh more. “Anyway, snce when you are in such good terms?”

Before they could have answered, Benjamin Tallmadge dashed through the corridor, still wearing his coat and scarf, with aknitted hat in his hand. “Oh, thank God it hasn’t started yet,” he sighed seeing his friends standing out there.

“What are you doing here? Your kids aren’t even in school yet!” Caleb greeted him.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Ben said, patting him on the shoulder.

Caleb let out a chuckle and smiled at him. Despite being nervous, he was garteful for his friends coming to witness his debut as Santa and making a fool of himself in front of two hundred kids. He even enjoyed it in the end.

“Daddy," Thomas Woodhull turned to his father on the way home after the celebration, “why didn’t you tell me that Uncle Caleb was Santa Claus?”


	6. December 6 - Snowball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ensign Baker engages himself in a snowball fight with some Setauket locals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I have started this challenge, I want to write something related to Ensign Baker, because I liked him a lot in Season 1. Also, I've just given him the name Joseph by myself, as I had no information what was his actual first name.  
> Sets in 1776, for obvious reasons.

Ensign Joseph Baker was glad to go home that evening. Doherty had just replaced him in front of the tavern, where he were standing gueard since the morning. He rubbed his cold hands together, ready to head for the Woodhull farm – his current accomodation, when a snowball hit him on the shoulder. He looked around to find his attacker, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Then, from behind a barrel there came a second snowball, but it was a miss – it landed just a few inces from his feet. Baker headed towards the barrel to find out who was hiding behind it, and saw a boy – couldn’t be older than seven –, running away. Before the British soldier could open his mouth to say anything, he was hit by another snowball, from the opposite direction.

Turning around he saw another boy, not much older than the first one who didn’t run away, but faced Baker with a determined look on his face. The officer could guess that the boys were probably borthers – or friends, and this one was trying to save the other. He could have gone to him with the musket in his hand and tell him off or frighten him, but Ensign Baker was not that kind. Instead, he bent down, still with the boy’s eyes on him, just to make a snowball. The kid raised a brow as he wasn’t expecting this. He thought the soldier would try to shoot them. Then realizing that if the man had made the snowball, he would throw it as well, he ran, but it was too late: it hit him on the side. He stopped and turned to face the soldier again. To his surprise, the man wasn’t angry at all. He was even smiling! _Alright then_ , the boy thought, crouching down to prepare for the next attack.

Ensign Baker hadn’t been in a proper snowball fight since he left the orphanage in London and he happily jumped at the opportunity, when he saw that the boy would be in the game. Even his brother or friend returned and they fought together against the officer who took cover behind a carriage and who hadn’t have this much fun for a long time. 

The snowball fight didn’t last long as the mother of the boys called them in for dinner. Before going into their house, the older one turned back to Baker and saluted him. The soldier smiled and saluted back.


	7. December 7 - Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Rivington was always trying to find out more about his business parter, especially regarding his love life, but this time he had gone too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I got a bit behind myself in publishing these ficlets. Well, here is the first one with Robert Townsend and with mistletoes in it.

Robert Townsend and James Rivington were like ice and fire. The only thing they had in common was the shared partnership of Rivington’s Corner, a coffehouse in New York. While Townsend was quiet, secretive, and reserved, the other man was loud, talkative, and nosy. He often tried to take a look behind his partner’s mask to find out his secret, especially about his love life. Which was actually nonexistent, but the young Quaker could not convince his partner about that. He kept introducing him to all the singe ladies who had ever set foot in the coffehouse or was eavesdropping in front of his room several times to check if Townsend had spent the night alone. Not only it was annoying, but it also put his real secret in danger: that he was spying for Washington. On the other hand, while being busy to find out whether he was seeing anyone, Rivington usually overlooked other details which let Townsend stay under the radar.

The whole thing got worse around Christmas, when Rivington decorated the place with green garlands and began to hang mistletoes everywhere. Seeing one above the bar was the last straw for Townsend. He went around and took down all the mistletoes, not wanting to take part in that stupid tradition.

The next day all the mistletoes were back. Townsend took them down again and stormed downstairs where Rivington was reading through the newest issue of _The Royal Gazette_. Feeling the tension in his partner, the entrepeneur looked up curiosly.

“Can we talk?” Townsend asked, with his fingers clenching around the small bouquet of mistletoes.

“What is it?” Rivington wondered. “You don’t like the Christmas decoration? Is it too fancy for you Quakers?”

“There is far too much mistletoe out there!” the younger man burst out. “James, I appreciate that you care about my love life, I don’t mind you introducing me to every single lady coming to this coffehouse, I tolerate your comments on my secretiveness, but with wanting to make me to kiss people, you have gone too far.” At that point he dropped the bouquet on the table.

Rivington glanced at the mistletoe then at the young Quaker, and he put down the newspaper. 

“Thank you for telling me this, Robert, and while I usually engage myself in trying to get you engaged, I have to inform you that I put these up because of me,” he explained. “I met someone and I wanted to increase my chances with her.”

 _Oh._  
Robert Townsend pressed his lips together and his cheeks were turning red. He thought that if Rivington had met someone, he would want the whole world to know about it. Perhaps it was something serious if he kept it as a secret. He felt so stupid and embarrassed.

“Sorry, I didn’t know that,” he apologized.

“Others can have secrets as well, not just you,” Rivington said with a small smile.

“But do you think forcing them to kiss you will increase your chances?” Townsend furrowed his brows.

“It doesn’t force anyone,” the entrepeneur explained, picking up a misletoe. “The person underneath it is free to be kissed, but only if they want to. I do hope she will want it, though.”

“I thought you put those up, because you wanted _me_ to kiss someone.”

“Wouldn’t mind to witness that, young Quaker, but not everything is about you.”

A smile touched Robert Townsend’s lips and he nodded at his partner. Fair enough.

“I’ll go and put these back,” he said, picking up the whole bouquet again.

“Feel free to use them if necessary!” Rivington added as Townsend walked up the stairs.

He hung back all of them, except the one above the bar.


	8. December 8 - Spontaneous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's getting closer to Christmas and Rosie feels lonely, wanting to get drunk. At the wine aisle she is joined by someone unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I wanted to write something completely different for this day, but I was listening to Take a Chance on Me from Mamma Mia and suddenly had this spontaneous idea...

She should have accepted Donna’s invitation, but she already promised her sister to spend Christmas with them this year and there was no turning back now. Even though she did play with the thought of buying a plane ticket to Greece and call her sister from Donna’s that she wouldn’t make it this year.

She had spent only half an hour in the shopping mall, underneath the Christmas lights, with All I Want for Christmas Is You stuck in her head, in the middle of a huge crowd of people. Rosie Mulligan wasn’t very fond of crowds. The only thing she hated more than huge crowds was being surrounded by couples in a huge crowd. Not that she had anything against couples – most of the time she didn’t mind seeing them. Most of the times she even smiled at them without plannig their murder in her head. However, there were some days when even the sight of two people holding hands made her feel extremely lonely. Despite she liked living alone and she did not feel the need to be in a relationship, she still had these lonely days, and around Christmas, the number of these days grew.

To cope with that, she headed to the supermarket to buy some cake and wine. Standing at the drinks’ aisle, suddenly she heard her name.

“Rosie?”

Turning around she saw Harry Bright, one of Sophie’s fathers, wearing a horrednous Christmas sweater with dancing reindeers on it.

“Harry!” she exclaimed when she could stop staring at the reindeers and look up at him. “What brings you here?”

“Depressive thoughts during Christmas shopping,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. “Had a spontaneous idea to get drunk and watch a film with mass murder in it, but I’m standing here for twenty minutes now and I still cannot decide what to drink,” he continued, on the edge of freaking out. “And I haven’t even chosen the movie yet! What about you?” he asked after a short silence.

“The same,” she admitted. “Except that I haven’t thought of mass murder, but it’s definitely a good idea.

“And spontaneous,” he added. “As I’m a spontaneous man.”

“Of course,” Rosie nodded, although she still wasn’t convinced about Harry’s spontaneity. In fact, he was the least spontaneous man she had ever met.

They both fell silent for a while. Rosie realised that they hadn’t really talked to each other despite meeting several times at Donna’s hotel or at Tanya’s parties to which she always invited him as well. The same thoughts were on Harry’s mind as well. He even found it odd that despite meeting several times, they had hardly talked to each other, while they had quite a lot fo things in common: he was Sophie’s father, Rosie was her aunt (not biologically, though), they both were friends of Donna’s, the both liked men, and it seemed that they were both feeling lonely in December.

“Would you like to join me?” Harry asked all of a sudden.

“I wanted to ask that, too,” Rosie admitted.

“Well, then, let’s get drunk together! And watch The Godfather!” he burst out. Spontaneously. Then he froze for a moment. “Wait, have I just…?”

Rosie nodded her head, trying to keep a straight face, but she couldn’t – she started laughing and he laughed with her.


	9. December 9 - Reins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major Hewlett is still practicing for the Christmas ball to impress Anna. However, he realizes he needs a dance partner.

Mary Woodhull was genuinely surprised when Major Hewlett came to her that morning to ask a favor. When she heard what it was, she thought he was joking. Then she realized that she had never heard him cracking a joke before. Still, asking her to practice dancing with him did sound like one.

Seeing the genuine surprise on the woman’s face, Major Edmund Hewlett began to regret his decision to approach her with this. However, there was no-one else he could turn to. His closest friend in Setauket was Richard Woodhull, but knowing his opinion on Anna, Hewlett did not want to go to him. His son, Abraham was in York City, trying to track down rebel spies, plus he had an affair with Anna, so he was not an option either. He did not want to go to his men; it did not seem right to ask them such advice. Which left him with no other choice but to ask Mrs Woodhull.

“I do not wish to be a burden for you, Mrs Woodhull,” he continued, preparing himself for the rejection, when she shook her head.  
“No worries, Major,” she said. “I will do it.”

Knowing how much time Hewlett was spending with Anna Strong, it didn’t take long for Mary to find out why he wanted to improve his dancing skills: in order to impress Anna. Even though she did not approve of the blooming relationship between them, she realized that Hewlett might turn Anna’s attention away from Abraham. No, Mary was not planning to seduce him back, knowing that she couldn’t make him feel the same way as her, yet the thought of him with another woman was still killing her. She was still afraid that when walking into a room in Whitehall she would find them there, in each other’s arms. Now Hewlett could change that and she decided to do her best to help him.

Mary Woodhull was a strict teacher, but this was just what Hewlett needed: order and authority, evenif it came from someone unexpected. It did not start smoothly at all, though.

“I’m sorry, Major, but you have used a wrong foot,” Mary said on the first day of practicing together. She wasn’t sure how to correct an officer like him as she had never had to do such thing before. When she first noticed he had stepped with his left foot instead of the right one, she tried to follow him, so he wouldn’t notice, but then she realized that this way they messed up the whole routine.

“How long do you know that?” Hewlett asked, once he went through all the previous steps again in his head to find out where he had got it wrong.

“For quite a while, Sir,” Mary admitted, avoiding his glance.

“Mrs Woodhull, please tell me if I get something wrong, because that’s why we are here,” Hewlett said. “Don’t be afraid,” he added, offering a reassuring smile to the woman. “I’m not the Major now, just a man who wants to practice.” He would have even removed his wig to emphasize that, but he was already feeling uncomfortable enough for the day, so he decided not to. “Feel free to interrupt, to stop me or even shout at me if necessary, alright?”

The young woman was still feeling sheepish and awkward, but she nodded her head. Then she took a deep breath and asked the Major to start it all over.

“Wrong foot again, Major!”

This was two days later. It seemed that Mary was getting the hang of it and so was Hewlett. However, he still had some problems with leading. Mary would have thought that this would be easy for a military leader, but it turned to be quite difficult. She needed some time to think of how she could explain it to him in the right way.

“Major, you like horses, don’t you?” she asked.

“I do, but what does it have t do with dancing?” Hewlett wondered.

“You lead the horse with the reins, so think about your dance partner as a horse and her hand will be the rein,” Mary explained, although in the middle of the sentence she realized what she had just said and she felt her ears turning red. “Sorry, that was inappropriate,” she apologized, being glad that no-one else could hear it. Being so focused on solving this problem, she didn’t pay attention what she was saying.

Hewlett was astonished by the strange comparison when he first heard it, but then he realized that it wasn’t far from the truth at all. He shook the thought of a beautiful brown mare out of his mind and turned back to Mary. “No, no, that’s fine, I think I understand,” he assured her.

He did, indeed. It seemed that bringing up horses did the trick and the Major began to pay more attention to his leading skills. He was getting better and better every day and Mary was proud of him.

Arriving to Whitehall two days later, Abraham Woodhull was surprised that no-one was sitting in the window, waiting for him – the last few times either Hewlett or his father was there. It was all quiet when he entered the house and he felt his muscles tensing as he closed the door behind himself. Ready to pull out his small knife of his sleeve, he opened her mouth to say hello, when he heard this:

“Major, left hand!”

“Oh, sorry.”

What the hell was going on? Abe quickened his steps towards the drawing room and walking in he saw her wife dancing with Major Hewlett, while his son, Thomas was watching them on the sofa with Judge Woodhull at the piano. Either this was a dream or he had gone mad on his way home.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of this installment came when I wrote the first one with Hewlett preparing for the ball, mostly because we haven't really seen Mary and Hewlett interacting a lot, even though they were living in the same house for a while.


	10. December 10 - Come All Ye Faithful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb Brewster decides to surprise the guards in Valley Forge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I got way-way behind of publishing these, but I haven't stopped writing them, I just need to catch up with myself. This installment was written, because I wanted to do something with Caleb and Nathaniel Sackett as I loved their dynamics in the show.

Whenever he entered Nathaniel Sackett’s shed, Caleb Brewster felt like a kid in a candy store: it was full of interesting weapons and tools and he always had something new to test. He popped by his shed in every other day to see of there was anything new he could try out, or just to annoy Washington’s spy counsellor. On that particularly cold evening, Caleb found him standing next to a steaming pot that smelled of different spices.

Nathaniel Sackett adjusted his glasses turning around to greet the lieutenant, who, surprisingly hadn’t touched anything in the shed yet. Normally by the time they got to say hello, he already had to tell him at least twice to put this or that down. Despite that he had to admit that he grew quite fond of this young bearded man. He would never tell it to him, though – being the spy counsellor, he preferred to keep these things to himself.

“Are you cooking something?” Caleb asked, peeking into the pot where he could see a dark liquid boiling.

“Oh, it’s mulled wine,” Sackett answered. “It’s basically red wine and spices. Got the recipe from my Hessian informer. He told me it’s quite popular in Europe, especially in the North.”

“Sounds good,” Caleb agreed, taking a sniff above the pot. “Although the smell is a bit unusual,” he admitted.

“Do you want to try it?”

“Of course, thank you for asking!” the lieutenant said with a grin. He was always up to try new food and drinks, partially because the food at the camp could be quite boring sometimes, and also because a new taste meant a new adventure to him.

When Sackett handed him the drink, he gratefully wrapped his fingers around the hot glass, and even the first sip sent a wave of warmth through his body, drawing a wide smile on his face. It had a nice taste as well – he wasn’t expcting the wine to be this good with the different spices.

“Blessed be your informer!” Caleb said, taking another sip. “This is great!”

As he was drinking, he thought of those poor lads who were on guard duty that night: standing out there in the snow for hours while it was getting colder and colder. Perhaps it was the Christmas spirit that had got into him, but he let down his glass and turned to the other man.

“Can we make more of this?” he wondered.

“Do you like it so much?” Sackett raised a brow.

“We can give some to the lads on guard duty tonight,” he suggested. “It’s so cold that the snot freezes into your nose if you step out, and they have to stand there for hours. It would keep them warm for a while.”

Sackett pouted hearing the idea (and the word snot) as he had different plans for the evening: calmly sipping his mulled wine while reading through this week’s reports. There was definitely no charity work involved.

“No offense, but why would I do such thing?” he wondered. “I don’t have much to do with those soldiers. I’m a spy counsellor!”

“Well, because it’s Christmas,” Caleb replied. “And because this way they will recognize you and next time they won’t try to arrest you thinking that you are in the camp without permission.”

_Touché_ , Sackett thought, recalling that certain encounter a few weeks ago: he was stopped by a few young officers for walking around the camp in civilian clothes. When he told them he was working for Washington himself, they didn’t believe him. He was even accused with being a Britsh spy and when he demanded to see Washington, he was punched in the stomach. That was when Caleb and Major Tallmadge noticed what was happening and saved Sackett from further atrocities. He definitely didn’t want that to happen again.

“Alright, let’s do it,” he sighed.

“I’ll bring a bigger pot then,” Caleb said, then he walked out of the shed, singing: “ _Oh, come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant…_ ”

He was still humming and singing while they were making the second pot of mulled wine and did not stop when they went around the camp to surprise the guards. Indeed, the lads were grateful for the hot drink, happily holding their metallic glasses. Seeing them warmed Sackett’s heart – even though he wouldn’t have admitted it -, and when the bearded whaler started singing that song again for at least the tenth time, he joined him.


	11. December 11 - Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas preparation in John André's house. Abigail is concerned for her employer, but then she gets an idea how to cheer him up.

If one had to name a house with the lowest Christmas spirit in New York, John André’s place would probably be it. ever since he had left Philadelphia, he stopped caring about these things. Nothing seemed to make sense without Peggy. Especially not Christmas. The only reason he had his house decorated was because of Cicero, his servant’s son, as he was excited to spend Christmas in the city and was happily hanging the garlands and ornaments in the house with his mother.

As for Abigail, she was more and more worried for her master. He had become a completely different person since they moved to New York. He was still good to her and Cicero, but was only a shadow of that high-spirited, eccentric officer she had known. He lost his interest in science and poetry, and as for music, he was only playing sad songs. The only thing that still interested him was alcohol. Abigail’s heart sank whenever she saw him sitting in his armchair, staring into an empty glass. This had to stop.

She kept thinking for a couple of days what to do to get his employer out of this melancholy and the idea came to her when he found John André curled up on the sofa, asleep, still holding on the empty glass. His sketchbook was lying on the floor open, showing a picture of Peggy Shippen. Abigail picked up the book, gently took the glass out of André’s hand, and when she covered him with a blanket, he already had a plan.

It would be risky, but not impossible. She walked to the desk and took a piece of paper before leaving the room. As she sat down to write, her hands were trembling as the plan could fail at several stages, but she felt she had to try it for the sake of the Major. If she could smuggle information out of this house, she would be able to smuggle someone in as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I wanted to write something totally different, when I realized that I hadn't included André or Abigail in this challenge, and then this happened.


	12. December 12 - Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ensign Baker wants to help the Woodhulls saving their marriage. So he hangs up some mistletoe in the house.

Growing up in an orphanage, Ensign Joseph Baker was always dreaming of having a family of his own; however, the closest thing he had so far was being quartered in a family’s house during the war. He wasn’t expecting it, but in a few weeks, he grew quite find of the Woodhull family, Abraham, Mary, and the little Thomas.

On the other hand, it didn’t take him a long time to realize that having a family did not always mean happiness. He noticed early on that this marriage was not a happy one. They both loved Thomas equally, but there was something wrong between them that he could not put his finger on. He heard it from here and there that Mary was originally betrothed to Abraham’s brother, who died in a riot at King’s College. After Selah Strong was sent to the _Jersey_ , it became clear to Baker that the growing distance between Abraham and Mary had something to do with Anna Strong.

As Christmas was coming, the officer decided not to sit there and watch this marriage fall apart but try to help saving it. As much as he could, of course. For a start, he hung up some mistletoe in the dining room. On the next day, Mary moved to Whitehall, taking Thomas with her as he was sick. This wasn’t going well at all.

Two days later, Ensign Baker was eating his dinner, when Mary rushed into the house, making him stand up to greet her, with a fork in his hand.

“Stay, stay, Mr Baker,” Mary said, walking through the dining room, heading upstairs. “Don’t mind me, I just left something here,” she told him.

“Do you need any help?” he asked.

“No, thank you, I can manage,” she replied.

When Mary came down with two pairs of socks in her hand, Ensign Baker was still standing there as if he was waiting for some orders. A smile touched the young woman’s lips, feeling grateful that they got to quarter an officer like him. He was clumsy and he never made his bed, but he was kind and seemed to have a good heart.

“I’ve just come for these,” she explained, showing the socks to him. Then she noticed the mistletoe right above his head. “I haven’t seen that. Did you hang it up?” she asked.

For a moment he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to admit that it was his desperate try to help them save their marriage, because it was none of his business. On the other hand, he did not want to lie to her either. He could have said that it was Abraham, but that would also be a lie and it might make Mrs Woodhull believe in something that wasn’t there.

“Yes. I thought it was nice,” he finally said.

“It is, indeed,” Mary agreed, then she took a step closer to Baker and kissed him on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Mr Baker.”


	13. December 13 - Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ensign Baker's mistletoe misadventures - part 2; an alternative version to Chapter 12.

Ensign Joseph Baker had just finished his dinner when the door opened and Mrs Mary Woodhull entered the house. The young officer got up from his seat to greet her, with his eyes looking for his coat he had taken off already, as he wasn’t expecting any visitors. Well… actually, he was the visitor, as this was Mr Woodhull’s house, and while he continued living here, his wife had spent the last few days in Whitehall.

“Mr Woodhull went out to town,” he informed her, being glad that he hadn’t removed his wig yet.

“I know,” she said. “I just came for this,” she added, steeping to the shelf and taking a wooden horse off of it. “Thomas needs his toy horse,” she explained with a small smile.

“I hope he is getting better,” Baker said.

“He is,” Mary replied, then she noticed the officer’s coat on the back of the chair next to the fireplace. Putting down the toy, she picked up the coat and handed it to him. “I believe you were looking for this.”

“Thank you,” Baker said, lowering his gaze, embarrassed by being so absent-minded. “I always forget where I put it,” he admitted.

As he reached out for the coat, their hands touched, and while Mary was the one coming from outside, his fingers were colder than hers.

“Your hand is cold,” she stated, surprised by the sudden touch. However, she didn’t pull her hand back and nor did he.

“It was always like this, I don’t know why,” he said. He couldn’t help noticing how soft her hand was, then a wave of shame hit him as he realized he shouldn’t have noticed that.

He shouldn’t have noticed that they were standing right under the mistletoe he had hung up about a week ago and he shouldn’t have look at her face to find out whether she noticed it, too.

She did. He could tell from her widening eyes when his gaze met hers.

The red coat fell on the floor when his lips brushed against hers and she held on his arm as she tipped her head to kiss him back. However, this wasn’t a kiss out of passion or lust, but rather a kiss of longing for love and comfort. Something that both of them wanted, but none of them could have.

They couldn’t tell who break the kiss, but when their lips parted, the both felt guilty and ashamed. This shouldn’t have happened.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“No, I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, not daring to look at the officer this time. “I shouldn’t have…” – she began, but she couldn’t finish the sentence. Ever since she had discovered that Abe still had feelings for Anna Strong, Mary was fighting a growing loneliness inside her alongside the feeling that she would never be good enough for the man she loved. This had got worse in the last few days when she had to move to Whitehall with Thomas, and despite there was always someone around in Judge Woodhull’s house, she had never felt more alone. Seeing the same loneliness in the officer’s eyes, kissing him came naturally. However, it was definitely wrong.

“No, _I_ shouldn’t have…” – Baker began, but he couldn’t finish the sentence either. Growing up in an orphanage, he was often accompanied by loneliness and the longing for love. His desperate need of a family led him to the army as well – because it meant a solid job and company. It got better for him, he made some friends, he could explore a whole new world, but those old feelings had never really left him. They were still there, hiding deep inside, and witnessing the fall of the Woodhulls’ marriage made them come out again. Seeing Mary dealing with the loneliness and abandonment he was feeling all his life was killing him. Still, kissing her wasn’t the right thing.

“I’d better go. Good night, Mr Baker,” she said, picking up the wooden horse, then she rushed out of the house, hoping he wouldn’t see her tears.

Ensign Baker nodded his head and said goodbye, hoping for the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning to write this, even though I lowkey ship them, as it would be quite out of character if anything happened between them. In the end I decided to link it with their loneliness and this came out of it.


	14. December 14 - Wilcox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Baker sees a woman's silhouette walking towards the Woodhull farm, hoping that this time hanging up the mistletoe wouldn't be in vain. Mr Baker's mistletoe adventures - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're having great holidays! :) Still very behind myself with updating these ficlets, but I'm catching up, slowly and steadily. This is Baker's third and last intention with the mistletoe.

Mary Woodhull’s quite frecuent visits on the farm made Ensign Joseph Baker hope that she would meet her husband underneath the mistletoe, so it could finally fulfill its destiny. So far it was even more in vain than to try to teach poor Wilcox to sing. He was the only one ordered not to sing Rule Britannia for the sake of everyone else. He had it written down by Major Hewlett himself. This mistletoe seemed to be the Wilcox of the Woodhull farm.

One evening Baker went out for his spare uniform he had hung out to freshen it up a little, but he forgot about it, as usual. Mr Woodhull was inside, reading something in the dining room. Taking his coat off the clotheslines, the officer saw a silhouette of a woman coming towards the house. He couldn’t recognize who it was, but even the sight filled him with hope.

Hed decided to take a walk in order not to disturb them. About half an hour later when he started to feel cold, he headed back tot the house. However, he didn’t get in. Because through the window he could see now that the woman was not Mrs Woodhull, but Anna Strong, standing underneath the mistletoe. And Abraham Woodhull noticed it and pointed it out with a small grin on his face. Baker felt his heart sink as they kissed inside the house. According to the tradition, whoever stood underneath the mistletoe was free to be kissed, so they didn’t do anything wrong. It wouldn’t have made sense running in screaming adultery. Especially because it was him who put up that bloody mistletoe.

However, he failed terribly with his mission to help the Woodhulls save their marriage. Perhaps he could try to convince Hewlett to drop the Charges against Selah Strong and bring him back to Setauket.

Or he might as well try to teach Wilcox to sing – both would have the same results.

Later that evening when he returned from his extended walk, still feeling miserable, Ensign Baker took down the mistletoe and threw it into the fire.


	15. December 15 - General Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The British officers receive some information about a mysterious general in the Rebel Camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is related to Chapter 2 - Tradition

New York, 1778

Rivington’s Corner was already pretty lively, although it was only open for an hour or so. Robert Townsend, despite his clearly uninterested expression, kept his ears open to hear what made the British Generals so upset.

“What an exciting day, isn’t it, Robert?” Rivington asked, grinning like a hunting shark, hungry for information. Seeing the livid and confused British officers woke up the journalist in him, and unlike his business partner, he didn’t have to pretend he didn’t care.

“Not more interesting than any other,” the young Quaker replied. “Or less.” Then he went around to pour some more ale to the visibly nervous officers.

“How come they could keep him a secret? How come we didn’t know aboout him?” General Clinton wondered, smashing the table at every question.

“They might have used an alias for him,” Major André mused, sipping his tea. “Or they might still do.”

“The main question remains: who the hell is General Snow? Or the person behind the alias. Is it someone from France?”

“What interests me more is why we haven’t heard about him before?” André asked. “This is the first time this General Snow was mentioned. Would it be possible that he is not an _actual_ general? What do we know about him so far?”

“My informer, a camp-follower heard Tallmadge and his friends talking about him,” Clinton said. “He was supposed to arrive to the camp on the 3rd of December and he seemed to be expected. There were no words about him ever since.”

André nodded his head. It was indeed strange. Other sources of information had no mention of General Snow; however, hearing the name of Tallmadge made the whole thing suspicious to him. What if they fund out about Clinton’s informer and they were feeding her with false information?

“We need to know more about General Snow,” he stated. “But from a different informer.”

“This is so exciting!” Rivington whispered to a not very impressed Robert Townsend. “Too bad I cannot publish it in the Gazette as it’s not confirmed yet.”

“When did that stop you?” the young Quaker asked.

“I haven’t heard that,” the entrepeneur chirped and started to go round the coffeehouse. “Oh, but who is General Snow?” he mused out loud.

At the same time in Washington’s camp, Lieutenant Gabriel Bolton walking across the tents, stopped at Major Tallgmadge’s, then saluted to General Snow, a snowman decorated with General Washington’s old sash and a wornout triangle hat.


	16. December 16 - The closest thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Simcoe prepares a Christmas surprise for the Queen's Rangers

Christmas was coming, which meant the end of the year’s military service was over. Not for Captain Simcoe, though, who decided to keep the vigilance over Setauket as it had become a dangerous place recently: rebel soldiers broke into Whitehall and kidnapped Major Hewlett, moreover, there was a spy needed to be found in Long Island. Well, an officer cannot stop. However, when his men came to him asking for a few days leave to visit their families, he let them go. He wasn’t a monster after all. Amongst the Queen’s Rangers, only a few of them had a family of their own. Some did not even know who their parents were. The army seemed to become their family and that caught the captain’s attention. A couple of days before Christmas, he approached Mrs Jenkins, who was said to be a great cook and ordered a dinner for six. “I will pay for everything,” he said, shaking a little leather pouch. He would have cooked himself, but his skills were only enough to survive, and this time he needed something special.

On Christmas Eve he told his remaining men to come to the tavern, but he didn’t add more details, so the Queen’s Rangers were more than surprised when entering the tavern, a fully set table was waiting for them. And a smiling Simcoe which was quite a disturbing sight.

“Merry Christmas, gentlemen!” the captain greeted them. “Come, sit down.”

The greencoated men were suspiciously glancing at him and then at each other, trying to find out whether their captain was joking or it was some weird trick. None of them thought that it could be something genuine. Simcoe was expecting this reaction, as he wasn’t known as a kind and generous soul.

“Help yourself,” the officer said, gesturing towards the steaming stew in front of them. It smelled very good, but what if it kills them?

“You’re not gonna poison us, are you?” Akinbode wondered. Knowing Simcoe’s previous deeds it was a fair concern and he was prepared for this kind of suspicion.

“Why would I want to poison my own men?” he asked. “It doesn’t make sense to me. Does it make sense to you?”

Indeed, why would he do such thing? The black man shook his head – it didn’t make sense to him either, yet he still remained on his feet and did not take a seat. Nor did anyone else.

“If you want proof, then here you go,” Simcoe added, then he put some stew on his plate and gave it a taste. The Rangers were eyeing him curiously, waiting for him to collapse or his face go green or anything, but he was still sitting there, still smiling.

“See? I’m still alive, so nothing bad would happen if you sit down and dine with me,” he said.

The Rangers exchanged a quick glance, then all four of them looked at Akinbode to see if he did something. As Simcoe’s right-hand man, he was the first one to sit down and the rest followed him.

About half an hour later the initial suspicion was gone, and the six Rangers were eating and chatting. When the food ran out, they became quiet for a while. The Rangers still did not know why their captain had done this as they all knew that kindness wasn’t his forte. In the end Adam Allen was the one who had the courage ask him about it.

“No offense, Captain, but why did you do this?” he wondered. “You had no obligation or anything.”

“You didn’t ask for a leave, but you still deserve a Christmas dinner, even if it’s not with your family,” the captain said.

“I’ve never had a family,” John Ross admitted.

“Me neither,” Allen added. “This is the closest thing I’ve had to a family.”

“Welcome home, then,” Simcoe said and this time it did not sound weird or creepy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been a big fan of Simcoe (I love to hate him, to be honest), but after what he said to his men in the end of Season 4, I didn't want to leave him out of this challenge.
> 
> As for the names of the Rangers, I just looked up some names of the members from the Online Institue for Adavnced Loyalist Studies: http://www.royalprovincial.com/military/rhist/qar/qarofficers.htm


	17. December 17 - Light it up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Hart received a Christmas jumper from Eggsy, but there's no way he would wear it anywhere and especially not in front of other Kingsman agents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is related to Chepter 3 - Simple, but significant
> 
> Also, it has stronger language than the previous ones.

_Oh, God._

_Oh my God._

Harry Hart was standing in front of the mirror in pure terror facing that horrendous knitted reindeer staring out of his chest. _Hasn’t he learned anything?_ – he asked himself. _Is this why I taught him how to dress like a gentleman? To buy me this thing?!_ He let out a deep sigh.

Then he heard knock on his door.

“I’m not going anywhere in this!” he declared.

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad!” – Merlin said, standing outside.

“It has a light-up nose!” – Harry cried.

A smile touched the Quartermaster’s lips. Eggsy indeed had done his best to choose the worst sweater for his mentor, he stated in mind. He was wearing his normal suit and a tie with snowmen on it, and a light-up Santa hat. Roxy thought it would suit him better than any ugly sweater, and she was right. Merlin wasn’t a big fan of Eggsy’s idea about the ugly Christmas sweater party, but as he and Roxy were quite eager about it, he gave in. Mostly because he wanted to see the other Kingsman agents wearing ridiculous Christmas outfits.

“Merlin!” Eggsy turned into the corridor, almost running. “Where is he?”

“He won’t come out,” the Quartermaster answered.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harry!” the kid burst out, earning an eye-roll from the bald man. “I’m going in,” he added, stepping into his mentor’s room.

Harry’s eyes widened seeing Eggsy wearing a sweater with a pug in a Santa hat, and a golden garland in his neck that was tied like a scarf. He _definitely_ hadn’t learned anything.

“Oh, God,” he mumbled.

Eggsy managed to hold back his laughter seeing Galahad Senior with that desperate face, wearing a reindeer sweater. He could also fight the urge to take out his phone for a picture.

“Everyone else look stupid, don’t worry,” he assured him. “Actually, that’s the point of the whole thing.”

“Is it?” – Harry asked, still being skeptical.

“You should see Merlin.”

“You could convince him to wear that stupid shit?” Harry exclaimed. “Sorry,” he apologized for the language.

“He didn’t need a lot of convincing,” Eggsy said.

That surprised Harry. If Merlin was wearing something like this, then it couldn’t be that bad.

“Alright then,” he said, adjusting the sweater. “This is horrible,” he mumbled, throwing one last glance at his reflection. Then he walked out of his room to face Merlin on the corridor. Merlin, who was looking quite decent in his regular suit and Christmas-themed tie. So Eggsy lied to him.

“You look quite normal,” he stated, feeling betrayed.

Seeing his friend in the reindeer sweater, the Quartermaster had to press his lips together in order not to laugh. Then, hearing his statement, he raised a brow.

“Do you call this normal?” he asked, putting on his light-up Santa hat, then he pressed a button on the back of his tie. And it started to play _We wish you a merry Christmas_.

Well, at least his reindeer did not sing.

“Told ya,” Eggsy said.

Harry Hart let out a sigh and switched on the light of his sweater.


	18. December 18 - Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Washington goes out for a walk in his camp

It was the last night of the yearly service in the Rebel Camp. Some soldiers had already gone home for Christmas, but most of them were still there. General George Washington walked through the camp to get some fresh air. He was revising the army’s plans for January and needed a break. Despite they got Philadelphia back, there was still so much at stake: bankruptcy, people leaving the army, his spies on the edge of being discovered. His mind was so troubled that he didn’t salute to General Snow passing by Major Tallmadge’s tent, while it was something that he had started last year, and the rest of the camp followed him. He didn’t even see the snowman standing guard.

After a while he sat down on a tree stump, still lost in his thoughts. Not very far from him a group of soldiers were sitting around the fire. Mostly dragoons, chatting and drinking. Then they started singing, which was something that happened quite often, especially on the evenings closer to Christmas. The general wasn’t even paying attention to them, but their songs crawled into his mind. He even began to hum them without noticing. However, the soldiers did notice the new voice joining them and they all fell silent when they saw who it was.

When General Washington realized that his was the only voice heard, he stopped as well.

“Apologies,” he said with a small nod. “I did not mean to interfere.”

One of the soldiers, a lieutenant of the dragoons with brown hair and bright green eyes, named Gabriel Bolton stepped forward, offering his cup to the General.

“Sir, would you like to join us?” he asked.

“Thank you, but… I do not know the lyrics,” Washington admitted. He had heard this song a few times before, but he wouldn’t be able to sing it on his own.

“We can teach it to you, Sir,” offered a blond one, Francis Barber.

A smile touched the General’s lips.

“I think I cannot refuse that,” he said, and steeping forward he took the cup from Bolton.


	19. December 19 - Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the Christmas ball of Whitehall, Major Hewlett has the chance to dance with Anna Strong and then he bumps into her underneath the mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is the final installment of Hewlett's dancing intentions. Awkwardness ahead, proceed with caution!

Major Edmund Hewlett could not wipe the smile off his face. It was Christmas Eve and Whitehall was full of people: soldiers and the Tories of Setauket – the guests of Judge Woodhull’s Christmas ball. The major had just come off the dance floor, or at least he still felt like that. Actually, it happened about two hours ago, but his head was still full of the experience. He danced the first two dances with Anna Strong and he did it well, without messing it up. He even enjoyed it and Anna seemed to feel the same by his side. She was beaming in her pink dress and with her rosy cheeks – he had never seen her this beautiful before.

Hewlett made a mental note to thank Mrs Woodhull for her time and patience, because without her help, he would still be stumbling on the dance floor. He got himself a glass of wine and went to find her. However, he couldn’t get to that point, as at the drawing room door he bumped into Anna Strong, who was heading outside.

“Sorry,” the major apologized and stepped aside to give her way.

“Sorry,” she said, stepping into the same direction.

Hewlett stepped to the other side, but she did, too. They both laughed and stepped to the same side again, as if they were dancing.

“Sorry,” he apologized again, then, as he looked up, he noticed what they were standing underneath: there was a mistletoe hanging above the door.

He didn’t know it was there; he hadn’t even seen who had hung this up there and when. He hadn’t even thought about the tradition until that moment and realizing what it meant, the first thing coming to his mind was to run away as if he hadn’t seen anything. The dance was already more than he could have asked for at this stage.

Looking up Anna noticed the mistletoe as well. When she agreed to dance with Hewlett, she wasn’t expecting him to dance so well – it was a pleasant surprise. She saw how happy it made him and it warmed her heart. Lately, as she had the chance to know the major better, she began to like him more. He was adorably awkward, especially now, when they were almost dancing again at the door. Seeing the mistletoe above them, she involuntarily let out a small laugh.

“Mrs Strong…” Major Hewlett began, a little nervous. “Would you mind…?” – he asked, and he felt his cheeks turning as red as his coat.

“Would you?” – she wondered.

“Of course, not,” he replied.

Now Anna was the one blushing. She found it awkward that he asked her permission before doing anything, and she felt that the only right response was to ask him, too. For a moment they both seemed clueless, not knowing what to do now. It seemed funny for Anna that Hewlett was the elder one, yet she had more experience in this field.

Now that Anna didn’t seem to mind it, Hewlett wasn’t sure what his next step should be. He had hardly kissed anyone before, but he hadn’t seen this a problem until now. His mouth run dry and not only he went out of words, but out of breath as well.

“Edmund!” he heard his name and he saw Judge Woodhull coming towards them with a glass of brandy.

And the moment was gone. He couldn’t kiss Anna in front of the judge – or in front of anyone else, to be honest.

“Excuse me,” he said with a nod and walked to Richard Woodhull.

“It’s alright,” Anna said, feeling relieved, but also somehow sad at the same time.

It was past midnight when the last guest left Whitehall. Major Hewlett was on his way to his room, unable to chase away the feeling of regret and failure. He had a chance with Anna, but he wasn’t brave enough to act on it. At that moment Anna Strong came out of her room, with a shawl on her shoulder, holding a candle that was about to burn down.

“I-I’ve thought you were already sleeping, Mrs Strong,” Hewlett said, a little startled by her sudden appearance.

“Not yet, Major,” she said. “But I will need a new candle as this can burn down in any minute.”

“I can give you a spare one,” he offered. “I have plenty in my room.”

“Thank you, Major.”

Hewlett walked up to his room and brought out a handful of candles, offering them to Anna. She thanked it to him and then she remembered what had happened earlier that night. Or what had not happened. Before Hewlett could have gone back to his room, she stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

It took him by surprise – he couldn’t even think about what was happening. A wave of warmth washed through his body and soul, making his heart swell.

“Merry Christmas, Major,” Anna said when their lips parted, and she smiled at him.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs Strong.”


	20. December 20 - Life Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn Erso shares with the Rogue One's crew their familiy's Life Day traditions. On Life Day, she receives a gift from someone unexpected. Sets in an everybody lives AU.

Jyn Erso was genuinely surprised when after telling the Rogue One crew about her family’s Life Day traditions, they agreed on celebrating it the Ersos’ way. Jyn remembered that when she was a little girl, her parents gave each other and her some gifts on Life Day. Since the death of her mother, she had no-one to share this tradition with (thinking that her father had betrayed her, she didn’t even want to). Until now. Having friends, perhaps for the first time of her life even made her excited for Life Day. Excited and nervous as well, having to find out what to give to the others. During the weeks before Life Day, she could find out some new things about her crew: she discovered that Baze Malbus was actually a passionate knitter, and after catching him checking everyone’s shoe size, it wasn’t hard to find out what he would give to the others.

On the morning of Life Day, the quarters of the Rogue One crew was loud of excitement as everyone found a small pile pf presents at their feet. A few hours later, Jyn, wearing the socks she had received from Baze and a nice blue scarf she got from Bodhi, was preparing a cup of caf in the kitchenette, when she heard someone calling her name.

Turning around she saw K-2SO, Cassian Andor’s reprogrammed Imperial droid approaching her. To be festive, he was wearing a chain of fairy lights in his neck. He probably had found that bottle of oil she bought him to treat his creaky joints.

“Yes?” she raised a brow.

“Happy Life Day,” the droid said, dropping something into her hand: Five screw nuts on a leather string as if it was a necklace. “They are from a TIE fighter,” he added.

Jyn still wasn’t sure what was going on and why the droid was giving her this. He wasn’t exactly the gift-giving kind. What if he didn’t mean it to be a gift? But then he wouldn’t have wished happy Life Day. Then she realized what could have happened.

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile. “Cassian made you do this, didn’t he?”

“Oh no, he only made me wear these stupid lights,” the droid answered. “If he had made me do it, I wouldn’t have bothered to put the nuts on a string. But now you can wear them.”

Jyn’s smile grew wider as she looked down at the strange little present. So it was indeed a necklace. Letting out a small laugh, she put it on. It seemed the droid had grown fond of her and it warmed her heart.

“Thank you, Kaytoo,” she said, smiling at him.

“I would smile back if I could,” he said.

“Would it be weird hugging a droid?” Jyn wondered.

“Yes. We don’t hug.”

“Okay, I see. Well, happy Life Day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and last Star Wars installment of this challenge. I've rewatched Rogue One recently and really wanted to write some Jyn-K2 bonding thing.


	21. December 21 - Right on time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isn't it funny that Indiana Jones, who faced death more than once, is nervous ringing the bell of the house he had grown up in?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I caught the Indiana Jones movies on TV and then came this idea:

He wasn’t planning to do this. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, when he pulled over at his father’s house, as the last time they spent Christmas together, he was still a boy. However, seeing that book of French medieval literature in Old French, he couldn’t get him out of his head.

Actually, it was the sword cane that he saw in an antique shop that was screaming his father’s name. Well, whispered, as screaming wasn’t like him at all. After buying the cane, he bought the book as well, knowing that he might take the cane as an offensive reference to his age. Not to mention, the book was easier to wrap.

He would be lying to say he wasn’t nervous when he stepped onto the porch. He found it funny that he, Indiana Jones, who had faced death more than once, was nervous ringing the bell of the house he had grown up in. His throat ran dry when he heard his father coming towards the door. _You can still turn around, you can still go away,_ he reminded himself. _You don’t have to do this._

 _No. I_ want _to do it._

A pair of eyebrows were raised when Henry Jones Senior saw his son at the door. Then a smile touched his lips.

“Right on time, Junior,” he said.

“You knew I would come?” Indy asked.

“Of course,” replied his father. “It’s Christmas! I’ve just taken out the ornaments.”

“But… we haven’t decorated the tree together since I was… nine,” the younger Jones stated.

“It’s never too late to start anew,” said the older one. “Now come in, it’s cold outside,” he added and walked into the house.

Indiana Jones’ lips curled up into a smile as he followed him inside.


	22. December 22 - Many more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Mary walks out of the mistletoe, Abraham Woodhull realizes that something has changed between them.

Setauket, 1778

Mary Woodhull was sitting in front of the mirror, preparing to sleep after Whitehall’s annual Christmas party. It was near midnight when the last guest had left the house and they could return to their room. Thomas was already asleep and luckily, he didn’t wake up when his parents came back.

“Can I ask you something?” Abraham Woodhull asked, taking off his waistcoat.

“Sure,” Mary replied, pulling the pins out of her hair.

“When I saw you under the mistletoe, why did you walk away?” he wondered.

“I’ve thought it’s obvious,” Mary said. She didn’t just walk away when she saw him coming towards her – that would be rude, and it would have caught the other’s attention. Instead, when he felt her husband’s eyes on herself, she suddenly found an empty jug on the table that needed to be refilled, so she went to take care of that, pretending that she didn’t notice the mistletoe at all.

“I know you don’t feel the same way as I do and I didn’t want to force you,” she told him, then, assuming that the conversation had finished, she began to unbutton the bodice of her dress.

Abe nodded his head. The last time they had talked about this, he told Mary he didn’t love her. He loved someone else. But then something changed; not one day to another, but slowly, gradually. It started as a simple appreciation of Mary’s help and devotion towards him (he still couldn’t see the reason why, though), and as the distance between him and Anna began to grow, so did his feelings for Mary.

“Feelings change,” Abe said, standing behind his wife.

Mary looked up into the mirror, curiously eyeing her husband’s face in it to see whether he was joking. He sounded serious, though.

“Do they?” she asked with her stomach clenching.

“At least mine do,” he said, pressing a kiss on her bare shoulder as a proof.

Mary gasped and she felt her heart skipping a beat. She still wasn’t sure whether he was saying the truth.

“Does this mean that I owe you a kiss?” she asked, but she didn’t face him yet; she was still looking at his reflection. “As I stepped away from the mistletoe.”

“Actually, it’s me who owes you,” he told her, crouching down next to his wife. “With many more.” He reached out and took her hand into his, taking a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that,” he admitted.

He should have told this to her a long time ago. However, he had realized only recently what an amazing person his wife was and how bad he was treating her. As he was crouching next to her, Abe was afraid that she would reject him, although he knew it would be understandable. He wouldn’t blame her for it. She deserved a lot better than this. A lot better than him.

Mary listened to his confession with a genuine surprise. Of course, she wanted to get Abraham back, but she didn’t help him in order to chain him to herself or to change his feelings. She helped him, because despite she didn’t agree with his actions and decisions, she still loved the way he cared for their son, she still loved him. However, she wasn’t expecting that he would ever return these feelings. Yet he was crouching next to her, with eyes tearing up, admitting that he was wrong. It could have been a trick, but Abe wasn’t such a good actor. At least not in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, Mary pulled her hand out of his. _That’s it_ , Abe thought, lowering his head, prepared for the rejection. But surprisingly, Mary cupped his face with both hands, lifting it up so he could face her.

“Abraham,” she began, with a small, reassuring smile forming on her lips, “it’s the past now. Let it die.” Then she leaned forward and kissed him.

And perhaps for the first time in the last two years, Abe kissed her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!  
> While watching Turn, I grew very fond of Mary, and unexpectedly, of Abe as well, so I've been thinking about writing something in which they could find each other again.


	23. December 23 - Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve in John André's house and Abigail is preparing a surprise for her employer. Sequel to Chapter 11.

Abigail hadn’t felt this nervous before as she was standing in front of Freddie, the hairdresser’s house that afternoon. She and Peggy agreed to meet on Christmas Eve. Everyone else – including the whole Shippen family and Benedict Arnold – knew that Peggy would travel to New York with Freddie to visit a friend there and stay with her until the beginning of January. However, when Abigail rang the bell, she didn’t know whether Peggy had arrived, although she hadn’t received any note from her about being unable to leave Philadelphia, so unless something had happened on their way to the city, she must have been there.

“I’m looking for Miss Margaret Shippen,” she said when Freddie’s servant opened the door.

“Abigail isn’t it?” the other black woman asked.

Her lips curled up into a smile as she nodded her head and followed the other servant into the house.

She still couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she and Peggy rode through the city to John André’s house. She hoped that the Major would be happy to see the woman he loved in his home again. She was also excited to introduce Cicero to her. She had to keep this visit a secret even from him, being afraid that he would accidentally spill it out for their employer.

As for Peggy, she was happy to leave Philadelphia and Benedict Arnold for a while. She was thrilled to see Abigail and André again, although she found it hard to keep the real purpose of her visit to New York a secret. Because Abigail’s invitation made her want to sing and dance through the house, letting everyone know that she would see the man she really loves again. However, she told everyone that she would visit a friend in New York which wasn’t very far from the truth.

When Major John André arrived home later that evening, he felt that something had changed in the house, but he couldn’t put a finger on what it was. He passed by a grinning Cicero in the hallway, and when Abigail came to greet him, she could hardly keep a straight face as if she was hiding something from him.

“Abigail, what is going on?” he asked, trying not to sound demanding, but he didn’t like other people’s secrets in his house.

“Come to the dining room, Major,” the woman said, guiding him inside, where Peggy was already waiting for him.

The young woman, even though she knew what would happen, still went out of breath when the man she loved stepped into the room. Her eyes teared up, but at the same time, she couldn’t stop smiling. As for André, he couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw Peggy getting up from the table. Was he dreaming? He couldn’t see her due to the tears that flooded his eyes and he couldn’t find the words to say, he just rushed to the young woman, who stepped into his arms. This is real, he stated in mind, when she captured his lips in a kiss.

Peggy wasn’t the only woman tearing up in the room: Abigail’s tears were also running down her cheeks seeing the reunion of the two lovers. She was so happy for them – and for being able to organize this meeting as well.

“How is this possible?” André whispered once he broke the kiss, still looking at Peggy as if he was seeing a miracle.

Peggy, still being out of words, just nodded her head towards Abigail, making the Major let go of her for a moment, in order to turn to her servant.

“Abigail,” he began, with his voice hoarse due to the lump in his throat. “Did you… bring Miss Shippen here?” he asked.

“Yes, Major,” she said, with her smile growing wider through her tears.

A wave of warmth went through his soul and he instinctively stepped closer to the black woman.

“Do you mind if I give you a hug?” he asked. It would probably be inappropriate, but at that moment that was the first thing coming to his mind to express his gratitude.

Abigail shook her head and opened her arms.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” John André said, wrapping his servant into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, Major.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left the cheesiest ones for the end of this challenge. This chapter might be a bit out of character for André, but I've thought it would be a valid reaction to hug Abigail after what she did.


	24. December 24 - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the Woodhulls' first Christmas without the magistrate. Hosting the dinner, Abe has to cope with the absence of his father.

This was the first Christmas without Judge Woodhull and the last one in Whitehall. Abraham Woodhull felt the weight of the host’s obligations and the absence of his father on his shoulders. He wasn’t good at greeting guests – luckily, she had Mary by his side to help her with that. Also, this year he got the decide who to invite, unlike the previous years, when it all depended on his father. Surprisingly, the Townsends came, and so did Ben and Caleb, and even Anna was there.

After dinner, they all gathered in the drawing room, and Abe sat next to the fortepiano, just like Judge Woodhull used to do. He wasn’t as good as his late brother, Thomas or his father, but this was the tradition: to sing together after dinner.

“ _God rest ye merry gentlemen_ _  
Let nothing you dismay_ …”

He chose this song without thinking, as this was the one they sang every year, although usually it was his father who started it. It came so naturally to him, that he only realized that the magistrate used to sing this at the end of the second line. It also made him realize that he missed him, despite their relationship was definitely not an ideal one.

Some nights he still thought he was sitting in front of the fireplace, and his heart sank whenever he found out he was not there. He felt his eyes on himself every time he walked into the house after nightfall, sometimes he even thought to hear his footsteps on the corridor.

“ _Remember Christ our Savior_ …”

His voice would have fitted this song better, as it was deep and mighty; nothing like Abe’s feeble one. But he wasn’t there, and he would never be. Tears flooded Abe’s eyes and his voice began to tremble. Everyone was looking at him, but he couldn’t continue.

 _Abraham,_ he heard his voice inside his head. _I knew you wouldn’t be able to host a proper Christmas dinner on your own. You even need my help to finish a song we sang every year._

The lump in his throat grew and he couldn’t see the piano’s keys due to his tears. He was right, he thought, lowering his head. He couldn’t do it without him.

Then suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. Glancing up, he saw Mary standing next to him. She offered him a small, reassuring smile, then she continued the song where Abe left it off:

“ _Was born on Christmas Day_ _  
To save us all from Satan's pow'r  
When we were gone astray_”

Looking up at his wife, Abe saw the tears in her eyes, too; however, her voice didn’t crack. Then the others joined them as well:

“ _Oh, tidings of comfort and joy_  
_Comfort and joy_  
_Oh, tidings of comfort and joy._ ”

 _You were wrong_ , Abe thought looking up. _I can do it without you. I want you to be here, but I can manage._

_Listen._

_Just listen._

Then he started to sing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last installment of this challenge. Although I couldn't finish it until the 24th December, it was still good fun and I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for sticking with me and reading the ficlets! And also for the kudos and the comments! ^_^


End file.
